


Nat's Neighbor

by SarcasticMusician



Series: Cheer Up Buttercup [5]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Posted so she doesn't lose it, Reader Insert, written for my friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 18:49:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13619481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarcasticMusician/pseuds/SarcasticMusician
Summary: This is a female!reader insert. I like it enough to post it and that's saying something.





	Nat's Neighbor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpiderBites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiderBites/gifts).



> Honestly, blame SpiderBites and my inability to say no to women. ;) Hope you like this man (posting so you don't lose it because I know I will). Hope this is a good surprise!

We like to think of ourselves as invincible. Invincible until we aren’t. Invincible until we fall, until we crumble, until we break.

Then we’re broken, worthless…burdens.

It hurts and it stings and the cycle restarts.

It’s a constant -this rollercoaster; It’s a constant but so is she.

She lives next door. A flash of red locks mixed with black cloth in the morning. A soft smirk in the elevator. A repulsed look shared when Mr. Gov’s flirts pollute the air.

She’s so many things.

Both filling a room and standing on the outskirts.

She’s happy.

Bright.

Snarky.

Intimidating.

Sweet.

Kind.

Sad.

Broken.

Human.

_Humanity breaks you each apart._

_Humanity draws you both together._

You share a wall. A thin wall.

You share secrets. Quiet, soft, hidden secrets.

It began last spring while life bloomed and your heart crumbled.

You had worked hard -so hard- to stifle your cries. Backed against the wall, knees hugged tight, shaking and blubbering, your bit lip nearly bleeding. You had worked hard -so hard- to disappear.

Then you heard it.

You heard it and froze.

So used to hiding your tears you couldn’t help but hold your breath as movement in the next room -her room- began. Soft padding, almost imperceptible. They faded as she moved further, you had let out a breath.

They faded until they increased. The door creaking in it’s jarring. The hard wood of the hallway tapping as feet collided. Soon a shadow fell over the crack under your front door, the shadow moving until a finalizing clunk had it steadying.

A soft rap. Knuckles on wood.

A soft rap. Even softer steps. Creaking door. Padding feet. Soothing music. Shifting bed. 

Nat’s back in her apartment.

You’re curious. You couldn’t help it. You’re curious, and your sad. And maybe, just maybe, it will be something good.

Maybe. Just maybe.

You pulled yourself up.

_Isn’t that what you always do?_

You pulled yourself up. You shuffled. You trembled.

You paused.

Hand to mouth. Heart pounding. Heart breaking.

You paused.

Your breathed.

You pushed on.

You swung the door open. So quickly, it startled you.

Strange. _Your body still had strength when your mind was all but broken._

You pulled it open, your eyes dropped, your smile rose, your laugh choked out.

Cookies. Cookies with wide M&M smiles. Cookies with dopey icing eyes.

Cookies and you’re laughing. Soft, wet, but laughing nonetheless.

The sound of the door closing had woken you from the daze. A cookie in your mouth, plate grasped in hand. You brought the plate to your safety. To the cool wall.

You curled up.

This time around the plate. This time open. This time slightly smiling.

Under the next cookie victim, you found tissues. The good kind! The soft kind with lotion.

You worked to dry your face as a slip of paper makes itself known.

Nat’s scratchy loops mare the page. A smirking cat -angry, if the eyes have anything to say about it- stares up at you.

_“Want me to meow-der them?”_

From then on it’s been second nature.

Oreos and peanut butter find their way to Nat’s doorstep when the punching bag session lasts too long, hits are too hard, cries a little too loud.

It turns into knocks on doors and fierce hugs silently offered. Invitations in, ice cream shared, music turned high.

It’s during one of these nights you meet Maria.

You’ve known of her -obviously. If Nat’s pictures aren’t enough, her stories of the woman give her away. Give them away. Give their love away.

It’s one of these nights that you meet her.

It’s more of a string of nights.

You’ve found yourself staying at Nat’s more than not these last few days.

She cries.

_You cry._

Ice cream.

Music.

Movie.

Repeat.

It’s day four that you meet her. She’s ragged at the door.

You can’t help but be defensive. Nat’s been hurt too much, too long, too bad.

You block the door.

Nat’s shower runs in the distance. You’d forced her to take it. Joked about her smell, and the tears staining her face, and _“You wouldn’t want to have it freeze like that, Nat.”_

She had trudged into it.

Now you’re even more glad she had.

“What do you want?” Harsh. Cold. Protective.

“I’m here to see Natasha. Who are you?” Fierce. Concerned. Caring?

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Another shift has the door nearly closed. You stop as a look of recognition flits onto  the woman’s face.

“You’re the neighbor.” If her voice is sharp, yours is sharper.

“You’re the one who broke her heart.”

Silence.

Water running, soft voice singing even softer words.

“You don’t know what’s going on. Let me talk to her.”

“I know enough of the story.”

“Do you?”

“I know you’ve been MIA while she’s been here-” You pause. Nat’s feelings and pain are not yours to tell. “You left, you hurt her, I’m not going to let that happen again.”

Maria’s eyes soften so much that you find yourself wanting to pull her into a hug like you have Nat so many times.

But you don’t.

She’s the enemy.

She’s the one who hurt Nat.

“Look, if you’d just let me in we can get this all figured out.”

“Not going to happ-”

“Maria?”

You turn around to see Nat’s towel clothed body peering above your -slightly shorter than average- head.

“I came to apologize. If your guard dog would let me in, I could do that in person.”

“What’s the call, Rosa?”

“Let her in, Jake. Keep the bat at the ready.”

You step aside disguising your smile at Maria’s confusion with an exaggerated cough -which quickly turns into an unfortunately timed cough attack…. smooth was never in your repertoire.

However, your Brooklyn Nine Nine code names have held up. That’s a good sign. Everything will be alright.

Hopefully.

You don’t know if you can stomach anymore cookie dough ice cream.

“Nat.” Maria begins, you watch as Nat’s walls rebuild. Stone face in place. “Nat, I’m sorry.”

You can’t help the chuckle, nor the fear Maria’s icy glare sparks within you.

“Hey! Don’t look at her like that. She’s been here for me, meanwhile you’ve been God knows-”

“Wasn’t that the problem though.”

Interrupting Nat is never a good idea. You slowly take a step back as the air turns static.

“If you cannot accept me having friends, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“We both know that’s not what this is about.”

“Then tell me, Hill. What exactly is this about?”

Red alerts blare in your mind. You keep an eye on the duo as you inch toward Nat’s room. She’s going to need clothes to fight with dignity.

_Maybe the red shirt._

_Not the point!_

_…Definitely the red shirt._

“You aren’t talking to the team, you aren’t talking to the counselor. The only person you are talking to is- is-”

“Is what?” You hear Nat ask

Her eyes are fierce until she moves them to you. You offer the clothes with a smile and wink. Those eyes make you feel calmer.

“She’s a civilian, Nat.” The near-whisper cruises through the room as Natasha quickly pulls the long night shirt over her head and dropps the -now obsolete- towel.

“You think I’d endanger her?”

“I’m worried about you. You know they’ll be questions. Questions you can’t answer. I see how happy this whole friendship thing makes you, I’m worried of what will happen-”

“Should I tell her?” Your voice cuts through the room, almost shocking yourself in its steadiness (you’ve never been good at conflict).

“Aye, aye, Jakey-pie. I’ll grab another blanket.”

You smile as she passes, leaving a confused Maria in her trace. By the looks of it ,confusion is a new feeling for her.

“I know about this whole secret hush-hush-pew-pew thing.” You say simply, settling down on what has become your side of the couch.

“How the Hell- You told her?” Maria’s sharp turn startles you while Nat takes it in stride. Laying the second blanket over your legs, she pulls the larger one to her side.

“Not everything. Only the fun parts.”

“Fun parts-”

“Pew pew,” Nat’s gun motion and noises were pitiful but succeeded in bringing a smile to Maria’s quickly thawing face.

“You know?”

“Yup.” You pop the ‘p’ like a child, snuggling further into your blanket and grasping your nearly forgotten cooling tea

“So-”

“You overreacted and caused a fight because you wanted to keep me safe.”

“…Potentially.”

A nod. A smile. A whispered ‘we’ll talk about this later’.

A pull in. A moment of blanket negotiation. Sighs.

Soon they’re settled with Star Wars barring on screen.

Natasha nestled in the middle of the two women who keep her sane.

If they watch half of the series that night, it was necessary.

And if they fell asleep halfway through, it was necessary.

And if Maria makes apology pancakes in the morning, it is necessary.

Nat’s added M&M smiles? Those are definitely necessary.


End file.
